Toby Tells All
by Shelly Lane
Summary: Toby describes life with Holmes and Basil. Disney and Doyle own all. I kept it as consistent to both as possible, but I did have to take slight creative liberties to make it all come together. Minor reference to Shakespeare. I own nothing.
1. My Worst Nightmare

**My Worst Nightmare**

The little girl grabbed the detective's hand. "Please let Dr. Dawson help you. I don't want you to die."

"I assure you I am perfectly fine, Miss Flaherty," Basil protested. "This is hardly the first time Ratigan's tried to kill me."

"At least it was the last!" Mrs. Judson exclaimed.

"Perhaps." He leaned his head back against his chair and shut his eyes. "I'm still not entirely convinced that he's dead."

"How could he be alive?!" Flaversham demanded. "He fell from Big Ben!"

"He's a mastermind. He could have found some way to survive," Basil pointed out.

Olivia continued to cling to his hand. "Thank you for saving my life, Mr. Basil."

"I had no choice. You were like the daughter I never had."

Those were his last words before he went into shock.

"I don't care how much he disapproves of my help," Dawson stated. "I'm not going to allow him to become Ratigan's murder victim! If I work quickly, there may still be time to save his life."

"Mr. Basil wouldn't rest easy in his grave if he knew Ratigan had killed him," Mrs. Judson put in. "He'll be grateful, but he'll be obliged to complain a bit to save his wounded pride."

"He won't be my first patient to do as much," the doctor replied.

Unable to bring myself to leave the window, I ignored the familiar whistle. I had to know what would become of the greatest detective in all Mousedom.

"Toby!"

I refused to move.

"_Toby!_"

I felt the leash clasp around my collar. Although I resisted as long as I could, Holmes started dragging me away. It's hard to refuse to move when being choked by a leash.

Suddenly I caught a familiar scent, an unusual mixture of cat fur, champagne, and cigarette smoke. The growl that began in my throat bared my fangs by the time the noise escaped my lips. I began pulling at the leash as I snarled.

"Is some nefarious scoundrel lurking about in the alley?" Holmes asked, unfastening my leash.

I hurried down the alley and found exactly who I expected.

"You look uglier than usual!" I whispered.

"They tried to eat me," Felicia replied weakly. "The royal guard dogs…" She was struggling to breathe properly.

I wasn't prepared for the wave of guilt that swept over me. I had only meant to chase her away from the mouse queen, not contribute to her death. She continued to speak, but I could only understand a few phrases.

"My own fault…didn't watch where I was going…escaped but still dying…wasted my life…wish I could undo everything…no chance to earn anyone's forgiveness…criminal…hate him…what he deserved…glad to see you a final time…might have been friends…goodbye, Toby."

I heard familiar footsteps approaching.

"What do you make of it, Watson?"

"It's merely an injured cat, Holmes. I fail to see any significance in the matter."

"Toby considers our feline acquaintance to be of utmost importance."

"Toby's a dog."

"Brilliant deduction, Watson!"

"Sarcasm does not become you, Holmes. I merely wished to emphasize that dogs frequently chase cats, and Toby's actions are hardly out of the ordinary."

"This cat intrigues me, Doctor. From her weight and the bow so adroitly balanced on the top of her head, one would assume she has been cosseted."

"I suppose she has been fed well, and she's certainly been pampered," Watson replied. "What's so unusual about…?"

"Why would devoted owners abandon their pet in an alley at this time of night? Furthermore, the scars on the pads of her paws indicate confrontations with a large rodent, perhaps on multiple occasions. You will also note how she trembles before us, as if she were apprehensive around humans, not to mention the brutal mauling she has blatantly received only recently." Holmes shook his head. "Most perplexing! I should like to have her as my guest for a few days and attempt to locate the owners. A real pity she won't survive the night!"

"She might have a chance," responded Watson. "If someone were to tend her wounds and look after her…By Jove, Holmes! Why are you looking at me in that manner?"

The investigator gingerly scooped up the dying cat.

"You can't be serious!" Watson protested. "This is merely a clever jocosity, is it not?"  
"Come now. This surely must be a sign. I first observed this cat from my window, recalling that Mrs. Hudson had expressed interest in such a pet. When I noted that Toby had not yet come in for the evening, and I stepped outside to retrieve him, he also drew the cat to my attention. Indeed her situation is most bewildering."

Felicia looked like she had fallen asleep, but I knew she was still awake. Having been told her entire life that no human could ever accept her, she trembled in the presence of Holmes and Watson. I've heard that frightened cats will usually attempt to scratch, but Felicia had spent a lifetime learning the hard way that there are harsh penalties for failure to submit to authority. I almost felt sorry for her. She wasn't really evil; that was just the way Ratigan had raised her.

Holmes gently carried her inside, and Watson began tending the wounds. When he had finished, he placed Felicia on the softest cushion he could find. After the humans were asleep, I went to talk to my nemesis. She was still very weak, but she seemed to be breathing a bit easier.

"Who are they?" she asked. "What do they want?"

"What makes you think they want anything?" I responded.

"Ratigan always says…_said_ that love is never free. Anyone who shows you any kindness wants you to do something for them in return. No one can ever love you for yourself. He explains…_explained_ that it doesn't matter what kind of love it is; it applies to all types."

"All types?"

"Romantic love, the love between family members, the kind feelings between friends…"

"And the affection between a human and a pet?"

"Yes," she answered. "Ratigan has told me…_had_ told me that kind of love is the most conditional of all."

"Why do you keep changing your sentences about Ratigan to past tense?"

Felicia almost giggled, but having never laughed before, she wasn't quite sure how to make the sound, so she grinned instead. I failed to understand the joke, but I was glad that she'd at least die happy.

"Do you know something I don't?" I asked.

"You're Basil's dog. You figure it out!" She rested a paw over her heart. "Oh, Ratigan! Part of you remains within me still."

"Is he dead?"

"I hope he's dead. If he's still alive, he's no doubt very uncomfortable."

"Felicia, where is he?!"

"That depends, Toby. What are your beliefs about the afterlife, or do you not believe there is one?"

"I fail to see what my beliefs have to do with anything at the moment! Where's Ratigan?"

"Is this an interrogation?" She sighed wistfully. "A real pity I won't live to see sunrise!"

I didn't disagree with her. Despite Watson's best efforts, the humans had still arrived at the conclusion that anything done for Felicia was most likely too late. It was the worst night of my life; Basil would no doubt perish before dawn while I spent the rest of the night with Ratigan's pet monster.

"How did your humans decide what to call you?" she asked. "It must have been great fun for them choosing your name." She held up a paw dramatically. "Toby or not Toby; that is the question!"

"Where's Ratigan?" I repeated.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know about him on one condition."

"Yes!" I readily agreed. "Anything to make you explain everything so I can finally get some rest!"

"Tell me something about your life first. I want to hear all about you so I can know whether or not we could have been friends."

"Now? But it's nearly midnight!" I protested.

She looked up sadly. "Do you realize how close midnight is to morning? Big Ben chimed for _me_ tonight. My time has run out. Please, Toby. I want to know if I could have had friendship, or at least acceptance, if I had lived."

Her words softened my heart a little. "Did you never have a friend, Felicia?"

"I did once. His name was Bartholomew."

"What was he like?"

"Sweet and tender." Felicia began blinking rapidly. "He always had the best tastes in…" She started sobbing.

"Alright! Alright! Stop crying, and I'll tell you everything you want to know about me!"

"I'm sorry. It's just that he was like a brother to me. That was years ago, of course, before…You mean it?! You'll tell me your story?!"

There are probably worse things than being forced to spend the evening with a melodramatically emotional cat, but I couldn't think of any.

I sighed. "Yes, I mean it. I'll tell you about my life. Just promise that when I finish the story, you'll explain where Ratigan is."

"I promise."


	2. My Humble Origins

**My Humble Origins**

I never cared for Mr. Sherman's company. He never beat me or withheld food like some owners do, but he owned more animals than the average menagerie. Sometimes he would take me for walks, but I didn't feel the personal bond that I had heard many dogs develop for their human companions. There were just too many of us for me to feel any sort of connection. When I explained the situation to my mother, she laughed.

"Oh, Toby! You have much to learn about the world! Mr. Sherman is a kind human. You should not ask for anything more."

"I want to be useful to somebody when I grow up," I answered.

"Everyone wants to believe they're unique and special with some higher calling, but in reality, no one is. I don't mean to crush your dreams, my son, but there are many dogs in worse situations. You should not dream of advancing in the world; you should be grateful for all the blessings you have."

"Yes, Mother," I replied, making an effort to hide my disappointment.

One day as I was playing outside, I saw a small creature running as fast as he could. I put a paw in front of this new animal to see what it would do.

"Let me go!" he begged. "I don't have time to stop today! Don't you realize who's on my case and what he'll do if he catches me?"

I had no idea what a case was, but this excitable little beast looked like it would be fun to play with, so I put my other paw behind him. Every time he tried to run away, I blocked him with one of my paws. The game was great fun for me, but the new creature didn't like it.

"Release me!" he demanded. "Basil will be here any minute, and if I know anything about that sleuth, he's sure to have half Mousedom's police force with him!"

He tried to scramble over my paws, but I was too quick for him. Besides, I was curious. I wanted to know what a _basil_ was, and I thought if I detained my new playmate long enough, I would find out.

Suddenly I saw a crowd of the tiny animals. All were wearing dark uniforms except for one creature, who was wearing a trench coat and a deerstalker cap. They spoke to each other.

"There he is, gentlemen! The plague of Pinchin Lane!"

"I'm surprised you ever found him, Basil!"

"Actually, it was elementary." He paused to light a pipe. "Ratigan's best henchman is mine at last!"

"He's in _our_ custody!" one of the others argued.

"Let Basil talk with him first!" a third suggested. "He has ways of convincing suspects to confess all they know."

The Basil creature turned to me. "On behalf of the citizens of Mousedom, I thank you for helping us apprehend this nefarious fiend. You may release him whenever you are ready."

I didn't want to release him. I wanted to play some more.

"Come now. Move your paws so we can bring him to justice."

I didn't budge.

Basil held out something miniature that smelled edible. "If I give you part of my lunch, will you allow us to finish our jobs?"

I swallowed the bribe in one gulp and lifted my paws. The animals in uniforms clasped some sort of metal around my playmate's wrists and took him away.

"Mrs. Judson will be pleased to know how much you appreciate her crumpets. You could stand to improve your obedience, but you have potential. Would you be at all interested in working cases with me in the future?" Basil asked.

When I told my mother about it, she laughed and complimented my "vivid imagination."

A few days later, I decided to go exploring. When I walked down an alley, I saw a creature about my size. This animal introduced herself as "Felicia," and we played together. I was sure we were on our way to becoming good friends.

Then I saw the other animals. One was about the size of Basil, but the other was nearly the size of Felicia.

The larger one spoke first, addressing the smaller creature. "Oh, my dear Bartholomew! I'm afraid that she's gone and upset me!" He put a golden tube into his mouth and blew smoke.

"I'm sure she doesn't mean anything by it," Bartholomew replied. "She's young yet."

"Basil has expressed interest in that worthless puppy! If that ungrateful kitten of mine forms an alliance with a sleuth hound…!"

Bartholomew led me away, whispering as we walked. "You'd better go home now if you know what's best for you. Poor Felicia! She's in for quite the scolding! I still say Ratigan has taken leave of his senses. Kittens grow. One of these days, Felicia will be over twice Ratigan's size, and she'll remember being mistreated. When that day comes, the boss will regret everything."

Basil came to visit me whenever he could, but as he was kept busy with cases, I didn't see much of him. Every time he visited me, he would teach me something new. He often hid and made me try to find him, choosing better hiding places each time we played the game. Eventually, he would hide several blocks away, leaving only a small clue for me to find him. He then started bringing other mice with him and telling me to find them as well. One day he brought a small jacket and instructed me to find the owner.

That was difficult for me. The jacket was his size, so there wasn't much to sniff. In fact, I almost accidentally inhaled it. Furthermore, I had not previously met the owner and had no idea where to begin searching. Basil kept encouraging me, and I eventually detected a trail. As he followed, I managed to track down someone.

"Fine work!" Basil complimented. "I believe you're ready!"

He turned to the owner of the small garment. "My thanks to you for the loan of your jacket."

"You're training that dog to stop Ratigan! I would have loaned you my entire wardrobe for that cause!"

Basil held out a shoe. "Now, Toby, let us try our luck on an actual case. This belongs to a villain, a fiend who enjoys harming innocent children!"

Barely past my own childhood, I couldn't help snarling, much to Basil's delight. I was nervous; I'd never had to track down a real felon before. Although Basil had been patient with me, I was afraid I would disappoint him if I failed. What if I really wasn't any good at detective work? I wanted so much to contribute something to society, and this seemed to be my chance.

The scent ended in front of some place where the noise of fighting mixed with piano playing. Basil seemed pleased with my work.

"Excellent job, Toby," he whispered. "The scoundrel must be in this pub. I believe I'll change my jacket and investigate a bit. Wait here."


	3. My First Interrogation

**My First Interrogation**

As I waited, I noticed a shape slinking through the shadows. I silently crept over to where the dark shape lurked.

"Toby?"

The shape was becoming clearer now. A cat had identified me by name.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"Felicia," she answered. "Don't you remember me?"

"Oh, yes! My childhood friend!"

"We're not friends, Toby. I've hated you since the first day I saw you."

"What? I thought you enjoyed our meeting!"

"I did, but Ratigan forced me to hate you."

"Felicia, no one can force someone to…"

"Don't speak to me, Toby! We are enemies!"

I was confused. "Why can't we be friends?"

"You work for a detective! I am enslaved to a criminal!"

"I thought cats were too proud to have masters."

A bell rang in the distance.

"Ratigan! I must be off. Goodbye, Toby. It would have been nice seeing you again if I hadn't been trained to think of you as my enemy." Felicia turned to leave.

"Don't go yet! You still haven't explained everything!"

"Please do not detain me! If I am late…!"

"We can still be friends," I argued.

"We can't!"

"Why not?"

She ignored me and rushed off to where Ratigan was waiting.

"Fifteen seconds late!" Ratigan remarked. "No supper tonight."

He calmly walked into the pub. "Gentlemen, make sure you don't kill each other this evening. Felicia won't be getting her customary dead mouse."

Felicia stormed back to where she had left me. "See what you've done?" She unsheathed her claws and drew back her paw like she was going to shred my nose, but before she could complete the swipe, she paused. "I can't do it! You caused the delay that cost me my supper, but I still can't hurt you! I'd be too much like him, and I can't do it!" She was nearly in tears.

"You don't want to be like Ratigan?" I asked. "But he raised you!"

She sighed. "Right now, my master is in the pub with his henchmen. You're here, so I know Basil is in that same pub, most likely in disguise. So far, their battle of wits has been a stalemate, but mark my words. The day will come when one of them completely vanquishes the other, and I hope when that day finally arrives, the victor will be Basil."

I couldn't understand this cat. She called Ratigan her master while admitting loyalty to Basil, and she could never keep the same emotion for longer than two minutes. I supposed she worked for Ratigan by force rather than by choice.

"You eat dead mice?" I asked.

"I know Ratigan would prefer if I ate them alive, but I'm a disappointment to him. You see, I've never harmed another living being," Felicia explained. "Did you ever hurt anyone, Toby?"

"Not in my nature," I responded. "I'd rather be friends with everybody, except for criminals, of course."

"There you have it. I'm a criminal."

"Not yet! There's still hope for you, Madame Melodrama! Renounce the rat and become a good citizen!"

"It's not that simple!" she complained.

"Why not?" I demanded.

She changed the subject. "Do you have a human?"

"Yes."

"What's a human like? I know how humans look, but I don't know anything else about them. Is your human kind to you, or does he beat you when you make mistakes? Does he allow you to take your time at meals, or does he starve you if you don't eat in the proper manner? When you misbehave, does he scold you a bit, or does he spend hours inventing a new form of cruel punishment for you? When he compliments or praises you, does he mean what he says? Do you feel like his friend or his prisoner? Does he force you to obey him, or do you heed his commands out of respect for him? When he places his hand on your head, is it out of affection of condescension? Is he proud of you, or does he constantly remind you of how worthless you are? Are you happy with him, or would you give your very life if it meant escaping his clutches?"

Her interrogation caught me by surprise. That was the moment I realized Mother was right. I did have a lot to be thankful for. I felt no special bond with Mr. Sherman, but he had never been cruel to me. Living conditions were a bit crowded since I shared my home with so many other animals, but anything was better than what Felicia had. She'd never even experienced a human's care.

The bell rang again, and Felicia hurried off to do Ratigan's bidding.

"Felicia, sweetheart, Daddy is giving his little princess a second chance!" the sewer rat announced. "It appears one of the patrons had a little too much to drink and lost consciousness." He held out a mouse. "Will you eat him, my honey?"

The cat hesitated. An unconscious being is still alive, and she had never before harmed another living creature.

"Come now, darling! He won't feel any pain or fear! Everybody hopes that when their time comes to die, they'll just slip off peacefully in their sleep! For all we know, this poor fellow might have a horrific death in his future. If you eat him now, you could be sparing him from a dreadful fate!"

Felicia looked terrified. She knew Ratigan's patience wouldn't hold out much longer, and she feared the consequences of provoking him, but she still couldn't bring herself to kill anyone.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you. Committing your first murder is a big step, especially at a young age, but I have confidence in you, my pet! If you eat him, I'll see to it that you have a lavish feast every day for the rest of the week! I'll prepare fish for you!"

She still hesitated.

"And if you don't eat him, I shall make this the most miserable week of your entire life, you ungrateful brute!"

Felicia put the mouse into her mouth.

Ratigan beamed. "Excellent! I shall summon my men, and we'll all return to the lair at once so I can make a midnight snack for you! How does herring sound?"

Without waiting for a reply, he entered the bar. As soon as the rat was out of sight, Felicia spit out her victim.

"I didn't bite him," she explained. "He's still alright, isn't he?"

"I think so," I answered.

"Toby, you must take him far away from here. If Ratigan sees him alive…!"

At that moment, Basil stepped out of the bar.

"I learned a lot from my investigation, Toby," he stated. "I would have learned much more if Ratigan himself had not been there, but these things can't be helped."

He suddenly noticed the unconscious mouse.


	4. My Other Passenger

**My Other Passenger**

"We've got to get him away from here before Ratigan finds him," Basil stated, climbing on top of my head with the victim. "To Pinchin Lane!"

I started for home while Basil attempted to revive his new companion. After a few minutes, the victim sat up.

"Good evening, my dear fellow," Basil greeted. "You look as if you've an interesting story to share."

"I was stepping outside to go for a brisk stroll," the other mouse began. "Suddenly, I felt something hit my head, and that's all I remember."

"Someone came up behind you and hit you with a club," Basil explained. "You were then dragged into a pub, where someone invented an outlandish tale about you losing consciousness from too much liquor. I don't wish to alarm you, but if you remain in London for much longer, your life may be in danger."

He nodded. "Might I ask your name?"

"You may ask anything you choose, as long as you don't expect me to answer. Where would you like my dog to take you?"

He gave the address, and I detoured toward his home.

"I somehow have the feeling that you helped save my life," the other mouse stated.

Basil nonchalantly replied, "All in a day's work."

"What is your work?"

"I fail to see how my career choice is of any consequence."

"Who are you?"

Basil ignored the question.

"Whoever you are and whatever way you make a living, you have saved my life, and although I hope you never have the need to accept my offer, I would be delighted to..."

Basil nearly laughed. "You? Save my life someday? The idea is utterly absurd! I see we've arrived at your destination. Have a pleasant evening, and the best of luck to you."

After the other mouse left, Basil sighed. "What is this world coming to, Toby? It's finally happened! I've been underestimated! What made him think I should ever place my life in another's hands? I most certainly do not intend to encounter any sort of problem I am unable to handle on my own!"


	5. My Second Human

**My Second Human**

I'll never forget the wonderful feeling that overpowered me the first time I helped Basil solve a case. A dangerous criminal was in jail, and innocent people were safe. Restitutions had been made, and justice had been served. Basil was pleased with my work.

After our twenty-seventh case together, Basil brought me a cap that was large enough to fit a human. He was so small compared to it that he had to drag the hat along the ground, and it was a real effort for him.

"Toby, I know you've never been on a case involving humans before, but if you could find the owner of this cap, I would be most appreciative," he stated, trying to catch his breath.

I sniffed at the hat, which looked extremely similar to the one Basil usually wore. After taking enough time to make sure I had the scent, I gently took the cap in my jaws and followed the trail to where a gentleman stood.

"Who are you?" he inquired. "Oh, I see you have something for me! Good dog!" He took his hat and started rubbing my ears. "If you are clever enough to return a cap to its owner, you must have a fine sense of smell! You'd make a first-rate detective!"

Basil, who was watching from a distance, had a strange look on his face, a combination of pride and awe. That was the minute I understood. The man before me was Sherlock Holmes himself, and by complimenting me, he had indirectly paid a compliment to the one who trained me.

"I must speak with your owner," Holmes continued. "Would it please you to help me work cases if your master gives consent?"

Mr. Sherman, who was returning from an errand, noticed me standing next to Holmes and hurried over.

"My apologies to you, sir," he began. "Toby isn't really a bad dog; he just gets a bit adventurous at times. I hope he has done no harm by making your acquaintance."

"I should like to speak with you about this dog."

"Has he caused any trouble for you?"

"None at all! In fact, he has done me a great service! With your approval, I should like to borrow him on occasion."

Mr. Sherman stared at him. "Borrow?"

"I shall be happy to explain everything, my good fellow."

He nodded. "My home is right over there. You are welcome to come inside if it would be easier to explain there. By the way, I'm Sherman."

"Holmes." He shook the offered hand.

Mr. Sherman gasped. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the great detective?"

"I see you've heard of me."

"Toby will be at your service any time you need him!"

Holmes insisted on putting me through more training. Most of it was review.

"You learn quickly, and you seem to have prior knowledge," he remarked. "It's almost as if you've had previous training. If so, my compliments to your trainer. He's done a fine job, and I admire him greatly. Anyone can teach a dog simple tricks, but your former trainer no doubt had exceptional intelligence."

Basil, who was hiding nearby, overheard the comment. For the next two months, Mrs. Judson complained that there was no living with him. Almost everyone in Mousedom had more respect for Basil since he had trained a dog to be useful to such a brilliant human. Basil tried not to let it go to his head, but I noticed he got a smug grin every time someone mentioned that I worked for his role model.

Holmes was very reserved, but I knew he was starting to like me. We dogs have that effect on people. Even the most stoic human can eventually be won over by a persistent dog. The strategy definitely worked on Holmes. He never showed blatant displays of affection, but I noticed how quickly he stepped up to Mr. Sherman's door when he wished to borrow me and how slowly he left Pinchin Lane, looking over his shoulder from time to time, whenever he returned me to my owner. Whenever Holmes kept me overnight, he would always drop food when he ate. Even though he complained of his carelessness, I knew the falling meat was no accident. He especially seemed to enjoy me resting my head on his foot as he read the newspaper, and he made me his confidante. In fact, he started borrowing me to work cases he could have easily solved without my assistance.

I could have continued my life that way forever, but fate has a way of changing everything. On one of our walks, Holmes told me he was considering life on Baker Street.

"I have found some nice rooms there, but they are a bit too expensive," he stated, lighting his pipe. "Perhaps if I could find someone to share the residence and the expenses…"

Not long afterwards, Holmes came to Pinchin Lane for a social visit, making sure to take me for a brief stroll. He didn't talk to me directly, but I caught a few words he was muttering under his breath.

"Watson…perhaps not my best idea…big mistake…cruel jocosity at the hands of fate…why me?"

I suppose Holmes eventually came to peace with the idea. A few weeks later, he came to visit again. As before, he made sure to walk me before he left, and again he discussed Watson, but this time his words were complimentary.


	6. My New Home

**My New Home **

When Basil learned that Holmes was living at Baker Street, he had an idea. He would move in with Holmes, thus being able to hear about the great detective's adventures firsthand and perhaps being able to learn from his hero. Of course, Holmes would never have agreed to the idea of his home being inhabited by a mouse, so Basil had to be very careful not to be seen.

The next case Basil solved was publicized in every rodent newspaper in the city. The headlines called him "Basil of Baker Street," and everyone automatically began to associate him with the title as if it were his official name. Basil didn't mind his new nickname. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. Almost every troubled mouse came to get help from "the detective mentioned in the newspaper," so Basil gained fame.

When I was staying at Baker Street once, I met Felicia again when I was out for a brief run. She had changed. The cat before me was no longer skinny, timid, or clement.

"Good evening, Felicia," I greeted. "What brings you here?"

She hissed. "If you don't leave in the next three seconds, I'll shred your ugly ears into ribbons!"

"But we used to be…I mean we could have been…"

Without another word, she lunged at me, using her claws to destroy my ears. I tried to bite her, but she was surprisingly quick. After my ears and nose had been ripped to pieces, she started trying to tear out my eyes. She would have succeeded if a bell hadn't started ringing in the distance. Hearing the familiar sound, Felicia hurried off to begin her meal. I went back inside.

"Been in a fight, have you?" Holmes placed his hand under my chin and gently lifted my head so he could see my scratches. "I don't understand at all, Toby. I've never known you to confront other animals."

I would have lowered my head in shame, but Holmes hadn't moved his hand.

"Cat scratches," he concluded. "Watson, would you be so kind as to bring me…?"

"Of course, Holmes."

I waited for him to release my head, but he didn't.

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't do this," Holmes began, addressing no one in particular. "After all, dogs and cats fight every day without any serious damage being done to either party. However, as Toby has such a keen sense of smell, I wish the injuries on his nose to heal as rapidly as possible, and I may as well tend his ears while I'm at it."

That being said, he began to clean my wounds. It felt like my entire face was on fire. I did my best not to whimper or yelp, but I couldn't stop myself from cringing. I tired to pull away, but his grip was too firm.

"Are your patients this difficult, Watson?" Holmes asked.

"Sometimes more so," the doctor replied.

Holmes finally released me. "There you are, Toby. Try not to get into any more fights, and you'll be able to avoid such unpleasantness."

"Was it really as bad as all that, Toby?" Watson asked as he rubbed my head affectionately.

"What a pity he doesn't get along well with cats!" Mrs. Hudson commented, slipping me a treat.

"What makes you say that?" queried Watson.

"I would love very much to have a cat to sit in my lap of an evening and follow me around as I work!" she answered. "A nice cat who would make me smile by playing with yarn or rubbing against my ankles! I was thinking about getting one, but if it would cause problems for Toby…"

There was a knock at the door. When Mrs. Hudson answered, Mr. Sherman stepped inside.

"Do you need me to return your dog?" Holmes asked.

"Not at all!" Mr. Sherman replied. "Quite the opposite!"

He began to rub between my shoulders. We dogs love when humans do that.

"I've been thinking," he began. "Toby spends as much time at Baker Street as he does at Pinchin Lane. In fact, he actually spends more time with you than he does with me. I have plenty of other dogs, and Toby seems to be having a good life here. If you agree, I believe it would be easier for you to keep Toby than to continue to borrow him."

Holmes made the necessary protests: He couldn't dream of taking Mr. Sherman's dog, and wouldn't Mr. Sherman need me for his own purposes, and Holmes had never thought of owning a pet. However, I could tell he actually wanted me to stay with him, and in the end, that's what happened.

"You be a good boy for Mr. Holmes," Mr. Sherman told me as he left. "Farewell, Detective Toby."


	7. My Busy Evening

**My Busy Evening **

I hadn't been living at Baker Street very long before I heard Basil calling my name for his next case.

"Who is Toby?" somebody whispered.

The voice was unfamiliar. It seemed to be a child.

"Well, my dear, Toby's…well he's…I say, Basil, who is this Toby chap?"

I didn't recognize that voice either.

"Ah, here he is now!" Basil did his best to make introductions. "Dawson, Toby."

"Charmed I'm sure," Dawson stated.

Catching a scent of catgut on his jacket, I started growling. My memory of Felicia's claws was far too vivid for me to want anything to do with anyone who had a use for cats. Before anyone contradicts me by pointing out that catgut is not actually made from cats, I wish to point out that the first syllable alone is a horrible sound, regardless of its etymology. I hate everything that involves the word "cat," including but not limited to "cattle," "catastrophe," and "catapult." I certainly hate catgut.

Basil noticed my snarls and tried to calm me, apologizing to Dawson for my behavior. I decided to see where the child had gone.

"Hello, Toby! Silly doggy! Would you like a crumpet?" Her accent was definitely Scottish.

I gently accepted her gift and the affection that came with it. Basil had a hard time getting me to focus on the task at hand.

He held out a hat. "I want you to find this fiend!"

I growled to show my contempt for criminals while Basil gave the best description he could, attempting to imitate my snarls. If the matter hadn't been so serious, Basil would have looked comical.

I didn't mean to step on him. It's not my fault mice are so small. He'd gotten me so excited about tracking down a villainous bat that I wasn't really watching where I was going. How was I supposed to know he was right underneath my paw?

After a nice run, I finally arrived at the toy store, where the scent stopped. Basil seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Splendid job, Toby!" he complimented. "Now, Toby, sit."

I try to be a good dog for the most part, but I hate missing out on the action. I remained standing.

"Toby, sit."

The child smiled at me. "Sit, Toby."

She was cute. I would have done anything for her. I sat down.

"Good boy," Basil muttered. "If you'll excuse me…"

"You be good now," Olivia told me. "We're going to find my father."

As Basil investigated the toy store, I remained outside. When I saw a bat's ugly face appear in the window, I growled and barked. I wasn't in the mood to be kind to anyone causing trouble for the girl, but despite our best efforts to keep her safe, the felon still managed to kidnap her.

I thought Basil was going to explode. He had quite the tirade for Dawson, eventually regaining his composure and promising to rescue the Olivia. Looking over a list that Dawson had found, Basil regained his confidence.

"Quickly! Back to Baker Street!" he exclaimed.

By "quickly," he meant I would have to attempt to outrun my own shadow. Every time I slowed down, Basil would urge me to move at a faster pace. I kept thinking of the girl and how her life might depend on how soon the case was solved. By the time I arrived at Baker Street, I was exhausted.

After a while, Basil instructed me to take him to a certain pub. Dawson was to accompany him. When we arrived, I was told to stay.

I wanted to wander around and see what was happening. Waiting for long periods of time has always been hard for me, but I remained an obedient dog, refusing to leave the place Basil had indicated. I thought I'd pass the time by catching a quick nap, but instead, I heard footsteps approaching, very light footsteps.

"How adorable! The sleuth hound is sleeping on the job!"

I looked up and saw Felicia watching me.

She purred. "Toby, right? I've heard of your escapades! Were you not the one murdering the residents of Baskerville Hall?"

"How dare you compare me to that vicious brute? That hound was a cruel, murderous…!"

"No he wasn't!" she interrupted. "That was only the way his human trained him to be! For example, you're blatantly dim-witted. It's not your fault that you're so dense; it's only the way Basil taught you to act."

I ignored her insult to my intelligence. "You think it's alright to kill someone as long as it's just the way you were raised to be?"

"Why not? I've been doing it for years!"

"What's happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You used to have common sense and reasoning. Now you're completely psychotic!" I responded.

"Psychotic? Try again, Toby! Surely if you think hard enough, you can come up with a much better insult than that!" She smirked. "I should get back to Ratigan's lair pretty soon. He'll be expecting me to give his henchmen a ride to Buckingham Palace."

"What are you going to do there?"

"Commit the most treasonous form of murder, of course! I shall destroy the one in charge!"

"We're going to stop you!"

"What makes you say that?" Felicia asked.

"Basil will find Ratigan's lair!" I retorted.

"Naturally!" she agreed. "Ratigan's waiting for him! Basil is free to visit any time, and the sooner, the better!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out yourself, sleuth!" With that, she left.

I was worried, especially when I saw Felicia wink at me on her way to Buckingham Palace several minutes later. I wanted to pulverize that cat, but Basil had told me to stay where I was. Something small made its way through the air. I judged it to be Ratigan's flying machine, but where was Basil? The waiting was pure torture.

A horrible thought crossed my mind. What if Basil had been eaten? Ratigan could have decided to ring the bell, and…it was too awful. I tried to think about something else.

Suddenly I heard a familiar whistle. What a relief! Basil was calling my name. He was alive! He climbed onto my head with Dawson and the girl, and we raced off to Buckingham Palace.

We made it just in time. As Basil rescued the queen, I chased Felicia. Something inside me had snapped, and I was through being tormented by Ratigan's monster. If she wanted to ruin her own life, that was none of my business, but she wasn't going to ruin mine. The time had come for me to stand up for myself and let the demon know that she would no longer torment me, and as long as I was around, she wouldn't be dining on any of my mouse friends or their queen.

Felicia immediately noticed the change in me. She knew that if I caught her, I would repay her for every misdeed she had ever done. I had never hurt anyone before, but I was ready to bite. The cat knew all this just from a quick glance, and she fled.

Unfortunately for her, she ended up leaping into the enclosure for the royal guard dogs during her escape. I thought she was finished, but she somehow managed to drag herself out. I don't suppose it matters much. As weak as she is, I'm sure she'll die anyway.

I never saw what happened on Big Ben. I only know that Ratigan injured Basil before falling to his own demise; however, Basil kept insisting that there was a chance Ratigan had survived. That was only a few hours ago. For all I know, Ratigan is still at large. I fear this will be a long night for me. Basil could be dying of his wounds because he was too proud to accept help.


	8. My Epilogue

**My Epilogue**

"I suppose you know the story from there," I concluded.

"Yes," Felicia whispered. "Toby, I'm proud of you."

"For what?"

"Standing up for yourself, setting yourself free from your oppressor."

"Why did you never do that with Ratigan?" I asked.

She made no reply, but I saw a slight trace of a smile cross her lips as she gently drifted off into a peaceful slumber. I lay down beside her and fell asleep. It seemed I had barely closed my eyes when I heard footsteps on the porch. The morning paper was being delivered. As I stood, I felt Felicia stir. Against all odds, she had survived.

"Felicia! You're alright!" I exclaimed.

She turned to face me. "Toby?"

I explained how Holmes and Watson had helped save her life. She nodded to show she remembered the events of the previous evening, but she seemed to think she was dreaming. I assured her that she truly had a second chance at life and that she could have her own human, not to mention real friends, if she was interested in renouncing her life of crime.

"You could still change for the better. I know it," I concluded.

I had been expecting a surprised reaction from her, but I was completely unprepared for the embrace she gave me.

"I'm going out to get the paper," I stated as soon as she released me. "When I come back inside, you're going to tell me where Ratigan is. You promised."

She placed a paw on my shoulder. "It's elementary, my dear Toby!"

I ignored her and stepped outside.

"Good morning, Toby."

I was elated to see Basil, who was also stepping out for his newspaper.

"Barely daybreak, and I'm already involved in a most perplexing mystery," he remarked. "I clearly recall my confrontation with Ratigan at precisely 10:00 last night, but I was unscathed! How then did I come to be wrapped in bandages?" After a brief pause, he added, "Perhaps I may have received a few minor lacerations, but you will admit the wounds were rather superficial!"

He picked up his paper. "There was really no need for them to print this story on the front page! I was merely doing my job." He sighed contentedly. "Oh, it's finally happened! Ratigan's been outwitted! Beaten! Stuped! Made a fool of! Oh, he's been ridiculed! Belittled! The superior mind has triumphed! I've won! The world's greatest criminal rat has been brought to justice by-"

Basil suddenly did something he had never done before in his life; he burst into spontaneous song:

_By the brain that beat last night's Big Ben Caper,_

_The head making headlines in every newspaper,_

_Who seized control of the high treason job_

_With cunning display that made Ratigan sob;_

_I, with the law to enforce,_

_Caught him and stopped him, of course!_

_His earlier crimes_

_Were fine for their times,_

_Baffling me again and again,_

_Although when pitted against I outwitted_

_The world's best criminal brain!_

_Even louder!_

_I'll shout it!_

_No one can doubt what I know I can do!_

_More ingenious than even you,_

_Oh, Ratigan! Oh, Ratigan!_

_You see, I survived!_

_To Ratigan! To Ratigan!_

"But what if that fiend's still alive?" Basil gasped, suddenly abandoning his song and regaining control of himself. He cleared his throat. "I shall be requiring your assistance after breakfast, Toby. I must get to the bottom of this."

I brought in the paper and placed it where Holmes would be sure to find it. I don't know why I always bother placing the paper in such obvious places; Holmes could probably find it no matter where I put it.

Felicia smiled at me. "Are you ready to hear about Ratigan?"

Before I could reply, someone was pounding on the door, begging Holmes to come outside at once.

Watson answered the door. "What's the emergency?"

"There's something stuck in Big Ben!" the visitor replied. "It appears to be a miniature dirigible!"

"If this is your idea of a joke…"

"I give you my word as a gentleman; I am telling you nothing but absolute truth!"

Holmes and Watson followed the man to Big Ben. Basil, Felicia, and I went along. As Holmes tried to solve the mystery of the dirigible, Basil did some investigating of his own.

"Here are Ratigan's footprints," he muttered, taking care to keep out of the humans' sight. "He obviously survived the fall, although it isn't clear how, but the trail ends here."

Felicia meowed.

"Do you know something about all this?" Basil asked. "Where is he, Felicia? Where is the Napoleon of crime?"

Felicia licked her lips and purred.

"You didn't! What would compel you to eat your own master?"

She gently ran a paw down Basil's back where Ratigan had scratched him.

"Are you saying he was unkind to you?"

Being careful not to knock him over, Felicia rubbed her head against Basil's shoe.

He stared in disbelief. "Do you mean to say you work for me now?" The detective shook his head. "I'm sorry, Felicia, but you can't honestly expect me to believe it!"

I couldn't believe it either, but when a young lady mouse came to report a missing emerald ring a few days later, Felicia insisted on taking the case with me.

"Absolutely not!" I argued. "This is detective work! Basil will solve the case with my assistance! You will stay home and…"

"Cats don't stay," she replied. "That's a command dogs follow."

"You aren't helping us!"

"Why not? What are you trying to catch?"

"A thief, of course!" I retorted.

"And who have I lived around my entire life?"

"Ruffians and brutes and…"

"Thieves," she finished for me. "Basil's a brilliant detective, but he doesn't know how to get inside a criminal's mind. He reasons like a gentleman instead of like a lowlife. I'll make you a deal, Toby. If I hinder Basil in any manner, I will never again try to work cases with you, but if I prove helpful, you have to make me your partner and let me share the responsibility of bringing criminals to justice!"

"Not a chance!" I responded. "You'd turn double agent!"

"I said I would help you, not take over. You're perfectly capable of keeping me from causing trouble. You proved that the night of Queen Moustoria's Diamond Jubilee."

Despite my constant refusal, Felicia was too stubborn to mind her own business. No matter what Basil and I did, she was never far behind. At least she managed to keep her distance.

Finally, Basil managed to locate the suspect. The other mouse responded to all questions calmly, as if he had nothing to hide. All his alibis matched perfectly. Basil could find no evidence to indicate the suspect's guilt.

Felicia waited until Basil had released the other mouse. She then grabbed the suspect, turned him upside down, and shook him, causing an emerald ring to fall from the pocket of his jacket.

"Wait! Don't eat me!" he pleaded. "I'll talk! I know where the rest of Ratigan's henchmen are hiding! I'll tell you everything I know about them!"

Basil overheard his confessions. Within a week, almost all Ratigan's henchmen were in jail. The greatest criminal ring in the empire had ceased to exist.

"You're not supposed to do that," I told Felicia later. "Shaking someone until stolen goods fall from their pockets is not proper detective work!"

"I'm not a detective, remember?" she answered. "However, I am your partner now. You promised."

Yes, I promised, and now I face having a cat solve cases with me for the rest of my career. If any other dogs hear about this, I'm ruined. However, Felicia really isn't that bad for a cat. I'm sure I'll eventually get used to having her around.

Who am I kidding? She's my best friend.

Just don't tell anybody.


End file.
